His Journey
by J.A.K
Summary: Though there are many, this story is a realistic account of Legolas' life if he were ever to go outside of his people and fall in love with a woman of middle earth. This is his journey. Please review!


**Disclaimer: **I don't intend to make a profit from this fanfiction, though I wish I had thought of this fantastic world of elves, hobbits, and dwarves before Tolkien. All the original characters in this story are mine and can not be used in other stories without my permission.

**Rating: **PG-13 (though it can and most likely will go up for violence and sexuality)

**Summary: **Though there are many, this story is a realistic account of Legolas' life if he were ever to go outside of his people and fall in love with a woman of middle earth. This is his journey. Please review!

**Chapter One: _His Journey_**

The mission in its simplest form had been clear. Search, patrol, report. There had been no fissures in the order that his Adar had given, and yet here he was engaging in acts that were definite grounds for expulsion—perhaps in his case demotion. In the months past, he could not have foreseen that his destiny would have led him on such a path; one that had taken him and his men to the battered Man settlement where the course of his life journey was to forever change.

Compared to his brothers, the lines of his existence were structured less rigidly than theirs. Still he had always known where his responsibilities and allegiance were aligned. They were to his kingdom first right and to his king.

Legolas paused in his musings as he gazed at the woman who lay next to him. Affection, such as the one that he'd come to show her in the past weeks, had been hard to offer at first. But now it came to him as easily as his desire to be a warrior, and he lightly brushed away the wisp of red hair that sagged on her cheek. Her skin was warm and felt pleasant against his cool fingertips.

Legolas' mind flittered to his home of Mirkwood, where he knew the elleth would be waiting for him when he returned. It was true that they, who varied in every conceivable manner, were extremely beautiful in their own ethereal way; but the female that lay beside him was perfection.

A smile formed on his even lips. If his brothers were only to hear a murmur of the thoughts that were presently running through his head he would receive ribbing and teasing to no end.

Poetry had never been his forte, rather the gift of his middle brother Túrelie, yet the syntax and structure of that unique language sprung to his mind every time he looked at Eireann. It was easy with her.

His intense staring must have lifted her from the encampment of her dreams, for she stirred.

Eireann knew that he was watching her. It was something that she had come to accept that he did, but she was no less comforted by the action. All her life she had been forced to live on the edge—the edge of civilization, the edge of her wits, the edge of her life—and the warmth and security that Legolas had provided her during their stay together had done little to erase that anxiety.

"Im aniro le Íverin ****nin meleth," he whispered. His elven words pulled her from her thoughts and for the first time since her eyes opened, she made to look at him. Eireann knew cognitively that he was beautiful, but it was always a pleasant surprise to see those strikingly ethereal features after a deep sleep. To her chagrin, however, her thoughts caused a spur of familiar self-consciousness to rise within her mind.

It was a known fact that elves, both female and male, were attractive to say the least. Yet Legolas had surpassed his own kind to lay with her, a woman who wasn't of extraordinary good looks. She was pretty yes, but paled in comparison to the she-elves that he was probably accustomed to. What made her stand out? Or maybe this sort of coupling was standard procedure for someone of his position. Eireann couldn't speak Legolas' language but she knew rank and power when she saw it. She had understood, from the very beginning, that he was a captain of some sort by the way the others deferred to him. Perhaps she was of no particular meaning to his life other than something mildly interesting to pass the time.

Legolas saw the doubt that clouded her eyes as she looked at him and his contentment quickly became a thing of the past. He did not feel hurt by her oblique assessment of their current situation, for most of the times, he felt the same way too. He was only better skilled at hiding his emotions. Such a gift was standard among his people.

For her sake though, he let the mask drop and nuzzled his face against her neck, leaving light kisses as he pressed against her. His hand ran down her side, resting at the hip, and he was rewarded by the shiver that she emitted.

Eireann closed her eyes at his gesture and sighed, most of her doubts sliding away with her exhaled breath. She ran her fingers through his hair, wishing that the moment would last forever. As they lay there, she felt his body grow tense in her arms, as he always did at the approach of another person, and she knew that her wishing had been for naught. Though she could hear no jingling of trees, Eireann had faith in his sensitivity to sound and slowly began to extricate herself from his embrace.

Knowing that his duty called, Legolas could feel no ill will at the elf that was surely coming to summon him from his quarters, but still he was slow in stirring.

"I will be back shortly."

He stood up leisurely and reached for his clothes. For once she did not blush at his naked state. When he finished dressing and had attached his sword to his belt, he knelt beside her, cupping her cheek with his palm. "Do not leave." His tone was laced with an air of seriousness that she was compelled to obey.

"Then you must come back soon," she said evenly, finding her voice as she stared at him.

"I will," he answered softly while rising.

His back was facing her as he made to leave, but before his hand could open the flap he turned and smiled, knowing how much the act reassured her. "Do not roll too far over while I am gone." Momentarily eased by his smile she nodded her head slowly in response.

And with that the youngest prince of Mirkwood left.


End file.
